


The Jailor's Mistake

by arbitrarybookshelf



Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5712070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arbitrarybookshelf/pseuds/arbitrarybookshelf





	The Jailor's Mistake

My eyes were drawn to a shadeless lightbulb as I awoke.  For a moment I had a choice between blinding light and filtered darkness, neither of which allowed me the privilege of sight.  It occurred to me then that someone was speaking.  Be it to me or another it wasn’t clear, but he spoke roughly, urgently, as if trying to get an answer out of the intended recipient of his interrogative manner.  I opened my eyes again, adjusting slowly to the light that swung gently on its cable above me.  Drawing my attention away from the light, I followed a yellowed crack away to the corner of the room.  It appeared the entire ceiling was outlined with this same black, rusted line, as if the roof would cave in at any given moment.

 

“Took you long enough,” growled the voice I’d heard before.  I lifted my head from the uncomfortable position it had lain in, intending to stand up.  I got halfway before I realised I was unable to move from my shoulders down.  I moved my fingers to feel what bound me in place was a rope, which appeared gnawed in several places, securing me to a wooden chair.

 

The next thing I noticed was cold metal beneath my skull.  The cocking of a gun.

 

“You have twelve seconds to tell me who you are or it’s lights out.”  The voice was calmer, less urgent, this was obviously familiar territory for my captor.

 

“I’m a doctor, you _maniac_!” I replied in a half-shout, feeling my heart race in my chest.

 

“That’s an easy claim…” Musing, mocking, he didn’t believe me.  He pressed the gun further into my neck and I let out a cry of pain, “I’m afraid I’ve heard that one before.  I’ve seen you sneaking around, I know what you’re really doing behind the surgical mask.  Three seconds.”

 

“Please…”  I couldn’t find anything else to say before I heard his finger tighten on the trigger, so I let my crocodile tears fall.  

 

One second of doubt was all I needed.  The gun drew away, only very slightly, but I caught the moment, ripping my arm free, dragging my knife with it to cut the rope away.  I turned and ducked before he had time to fire, and the bullet bore a hole in the flaking plaster.

 

He had been holding the rope which now slackened, letting him fall to the ground, his gun clattered away.

 

“You wouldn’t fight an unarmed opponent, it’s bad sportsmanship!”  Pleading, it was his turn to sweat.  I took a step forward and stood over his body, leaning down so my eyes were level with his.

 

“This isn’t a fight.” I muttered as I drove my blade into his chest, “It’s an execution.” 

 

I watched him for a while, blood brimming on his lips before he coughed heavily, tears - real ones - streaming down his cheeks.  Having removed my knife almost immediately I now backed out of the room,  keeping my eyes on him until I was sure he was gone.  

 

Quickly rinsing my blade in the rainwater that flowed down the street, I sprinted for home.  Being held for the night had screwed with my plans.  There was no system now, I had to watch my back.  Once home, I couldn’t sleep, so I sat and watched out the window for morning. After all; 

 

I wouldn’t want to miss the trial.


End file.
